In this installment of CMF Community Voices, CMF’s Michigan Forum for African Americans in Philanthropy co-chairs, Camarrah Morgan, program partner, Max M. & Marjorie S. Fisher Foundation, Meredith Freeman, director of Alignment and Impact Investing, Max M. & Marjorie S. Fisher Foundation, and Dr. Alana White, program officer, W.K. Kellogg Foundation, share stories of their family members who had the courage to HOPE during times of trauma, trouble and uncertainty.
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CMF Community Voices
CMF Community Voices features a series of conversations and insights from leaders across our community of philanthropy. This curated collection of blogs and Q&As lifts up inspiring voices from changemakers providing reflections in the areas of Equity, People, Practice and Policy, with equity at the center.
Part I: The Past
We, the co-chairs of the CMF Michigan Forum for African Americans in Philanthropy, enter Black History Month reflecting on our origin stories, our work in communities across the State and our views of the work to come. We recognize there are tough times in our lives, often circumstances outside of our control, that deeply impact us, discourage our minds and stir our souls. Yet, there is a human disposition that protects our brains, bodies and spirits in moments of trauma, trouble and uncertainty. HOPE. Hope gives us the courage to take another step, try again and do something we have never seen done before.
These connections birthed a theme for this series: Hope in Tumultuous Times. We invite you to walk with us on this journey as we begin with honoring the past as we plan for the future - Sankofa.
By CMF’s Michigan Forum for African Americans in Philanthropy co-chairs, Camarrah Morgan, program partner, Max M. & Marjorie S. Fisher Foundation, Meredith Freeman, director of Alignment and Impact Investing, Max M. & Marjorie S. Fisher Foundation, and Dr. Alana White, program officer, W.K. Kellogg Foundation.
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Camarrah Morgan and her grandfather.
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Meredith and her mother Norma Gulley Jones.
Camarrah: The hope of Sankofa in my family is my grandfather, Dr. Charles McBride sharing a memorable moment while studying to become a teacher at Lincoln University of Missouri in the late 1940s. One of his professors stopped him after class to ask him “do you think Integration will ever happen for black people?” My grandfather responded, “Yes.” My grandfather spoke with awe and proud achievement about his memory of being offered the job to teach in Muskegon Public Schools. He looked at me with a sparkle in his eye “Can you believe that? Me. A man who rode on a bus 50 miles each way to attend a black-only school was sought after by white parents who wanted their children to learn from me!” He later became the first African American School Administrator of Muskegon Public Schools. His hope nourishes me to believe that no matter how hard, confusing or impossible life seems, better is possible.
Meredith: As a teenage student at Fisk University in the late 1950s, my mother, Norma Gulley Jones, demonstrated with other teenagers and young adults in defiance of Jim Crow laws. This included marching, sitting at lunch counters, and facing danger and uncertainty in the streets of Nashville, Tennessee. During one sit-in, her hair was set on fire, a man put a lit cigarette to the end of her ponytail. Someone else put the fire out before it could burn her skin, but in the days following, she just cut her hair short and went back into the streets, afraid but more resolute than ever. My mother, along with other sons and daughters of the Civil Rights Movement, put their hope into action which often meant putting their physical selves on the line to stand against evil and injustice. My mother recently joined the ancestors, but her story of hope in action lives on. Because of their example, we should ask ourselves every day: how will we honor the actions of our elders and ancestors and act on our hope for a better present and future? What will we do to ensure that we never go back?
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Dr. Alana White and her mother Domonique White.
Alana: I remember the stories about my great-grandparents who fled the South for better economic opportunities in the Midwest. I remember both of my grandfathers’ stories about discrimination during their military service to America. I remember my parents’ stories about growing up in a time when discrimination was still legal. In each story, my family spoke about the love and light that remained a beacon of HOPE for better days as the world continued to shift and evolve. My mother, Domonique White once said: “My hope began with the expectancy that I could survive discrimination just as my grandparents and my parents had survived, but at times, I felt an invisible ceiling over my hope for the future. The expectancy that remains may not be celebrated by all, but those who are willing to stand with us in the rain, sleet, snow, and hail are our friends, our supporters of hope. We need them just like we needed people of all colors who helped during the Underground Railroad and Dr. King’s campaigns.”
As we honor the past and look to the future - we, too, remain hopeful that we will all stand in solidarity to bring more love and light to the days ahead.
